


Facets of a Fairytale

by Eissel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fae, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Developing Friendships, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Friendship, Gen, Interhouse Friendships, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:02:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26734045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eissel/pseuds/Eissel
Summary: In which Penelope Clearwater is a Changeling and somehow that changes everything and nothing all at once.(Or: 7 moments where being fae set Penny apart and 1 where it didn’t)
Relationships: Penelope Clearwater & Percy Weasley & Oliver Wood, Penelope Clearwater/Percy Weasley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	Facets of a Fairytale

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t read the novel Fantastic Beats and Where to Find Them, I’ve never watched a single movie in the series either, and that’s probably not going to change in the near future if I’m being completely honest. 
> 
> That being said, the concept of a changeling and the concept of fae in this fic are basically ripped from Changeling: The Lost with some changes, and I feel no shame in admitting that.

**I: "The Master of Them All"**

* * *

Penny gazes at the banners of all the houses when she sits down for breakfast, and is reminded of a distant memory she thought she had long since buried.

“ _ Gold for the mistress, silver for the maid, copper for the craftsman working at his trade. But iron, cold iron... _ ” She felt a shudder run up her spine, which made her grateful for the baggy robes they were required to wear. At least nobody would see her fear that easily. 

Gryffindor, red and golds that remind her of noble families and the peasants that died for them. 

Slytherin, “evil”, or so the rumors implied. Always second fiddle to Gryffindor as they played the villainous snake to the noble lion, hidden in the shadows. By all rights, Penny should’ve gone to one of them given the natures of most fae, but Penny is more than just fae. She is a changeling, from the other side of the tracks, yes, but that alone puts her in not with the snakes in their dungeon, or with the lions and their court, but with the eagles in their tower.

(She always smiles when she thinks of the disparity between their mascot and name, because it furthers her belief that Ravenclaw is perfect for her. After all, you don’t call an eagle a raven if you’re looking to be fully  _ truthful _ .)

Ravenclaw is bronze and blue, the ones who people look at and see bookworms and swots. They are in the background, steadily flying to wherever it is they would like. Penny envies that freedom— no, she desires it more than anything else. Which is why she demanded to be put here, amongst those who are studious and smart.

(The fae are smart, cunning as well, but they are smart first and foremost, because cunning helps in the short term, but having your wits about you allows you to mask the ugly truth)

And there is Hufflepuff. Unlike the group of Slytherins passing behind her as they gossiped, Penny doesn’t think of Hufflepuff as “the leftovers.” No, their color is black, like iron after it has long since been cooled. She subconsciously rubs at an old scar caused by said iron. Hufflepuff would never have been the place for her, no place that reminds her of that awful material can be the place for her, values and virtues be damned since hard work and loyalty can always be given to those who are not worthy of it.

Loyalty can be twisted,  _ so twisted _ into lies she knows, and no fae belongs in a place that values honesty.

She drizzles honey on her bread as she eats, ignoring the stares from her housemates— she prefers sweet to savory, would have even ignoring her physiology, and besides she doesn’t say anything about  _ their _ choices of breakfast meal— and stuffs herself before getting up to walk to her classes.

When she gets to Transfiguration, Penny stares in horror at the small needle sitting innocently on her desk. Her partner (Steven Jones, Hufflepuff) sets to work on his immediately once McGonagall’s explanation is finished, and Penny can’t help but feel a thrill of terror spark in her heart.

(Cold iron in the hands of the house it’s most suited to, cold iron in the shape of a thin spike, enough to kill her if it pierced her skin and got into her blood)

She waits until he isn’t looking before she attempts her own transfiguration. She envisions cold iron turning into wood and phosphorous and sulfur. When she opens her eyes, it sits inert, her magic having washed over it without a single change. Her face nearly screws up in anger, but she calms herself, not wanting to throw a tantrum over something so simple.

Her breath is still stuck in her throat though, and she stares at it, wondering if the inertness comes from her own skills or if it is the fault of her fae magic. Still, Penny isn’t one for inaction, not when she could be poking and prodding the problem to find the solution.

So Penelope Clearwater picked up the needle despite the burn (and Merlin did it burn) and held it in her hand until she couldn’t anymore. With her uninjured hand, she ran a fingertip along the length of it, and tried to imagine in her mind the slow change from silver to dull off-white. Tried to imagine the sharp tip changing to a boxy, flat bottom. Envisioned the eye turning red-hot, like the iron was being smelted.

She waved her wand, and closed her eyes. She held tightly to that burning feeling on her injured hand, of that quality of change. 

Penny opened her eyes, and she smiled, for sitting in front of her was a perfect matchstick.

(And when McGonagall said “5 points to Ravenclaw” for being the first one to succeed, she feels a shred of pride grow warm in her heart.)

* * *

**II: Swear An Oath of the Heart**

* * *

It was an achievement that Penny would recount fondly even at her deathbed. She had somehow managed to drag Percy Weasley out of bed while violating curfew. Or rather, Oliver had done that, Penny had just given them the reason.

“We’re going to get caught.” Percy griped, though he didn’t make an effort to turn around and go back, granted, that might have been due to Oliver’s strength or his sheer tiredness. Either way, it worked in her favor.

“No we’re not.” Oliver said, dragging the redhead forwards. “Well, we won’t if you keep quiet, do you want Filch to find us?” He whisper-shouted. Penny rolled her eyes. Really, they could be such… such  _ boys _ . Thank Merlin for Gemma and Audrey— Even if she was still a teensy,  _ eensy _ bit still wary of the Puff, what with her being from the Cold Iron House and all, even if Audrey didn’t  _ actually _ know about that stuff being Muggleborn and all— She wouldn’t have survived without some female friends, really.

“We’re close anyways, it’s going to be fine. Besides, this is gonna help with our magic!” Which wasn’t exactly a lie on her part. This ritual  _ would _ help them all with their magic, but it would also prevent her from being discovered for what she was unless she revealed herself on purpose.

They ascended the stairs, and got onto the top of the astronomy tower, with no one in sight. Penny had chosen this night in particular to perform the ritual, Professor Sinistra wouldn’t be holding a class, the moon was nice and full, and it was  _ just _ on the border between Winter and Spring. Perfect for fae magic.

She, Percy, and Oliver took their seats against the low wall of the tower, staying out of the way of the entrance in order to increase their chances of not being caught by a professor or a Prefect. The door creaked open again, and she watched as choppy blond led the charge, followed by long auburn locks, followed by a small bundle that had poofs of black poking out at the top. The trio made their way over to them, keeping quiet, though Penny could tell that it took a lot out of them (well, maybe just two of them) to keep their mouths shut. 

“We almost ran into Snape.” Gabriel said as he sunk to the ground. “I was so terrified, but Gemma—  _ Gemma _ you’re a lifesaver!” He said with awe. 

“You can pay me back by just calling me Farley, Truman.”

“But we’re all friends...” Audrey said quietly, a frown tugging at her lips. “Unless you don’t think we’re friends Gemma…?” Oliver huffed, rolling his eyes. Penny knew his opinion on Gemma, and she could only hope that it would change as they got older. 

“We don’t have a lot of time.” Penny said, interrupting before it could grow into a spat. “It’s going to be sunup in 2 hours, we have to do this now.”

“Where did you even find this Clearwater?” Farley asked, her Slytherin cunning clearly informing her that this wasn’t exactly information that you could find lying about. 

“Muggle fairy tales have a bit of truth to them.” Penny said, which was true, but also didn’t answer her question. Not that Gemma would be able to counter her, maybe when they were older, but for now, Penny had the edge of experience and natural talent. “Now come on, everyone in a circle, alternating genders.” The group of second years shuffled around, forming a tight circle.

She breathed in, nice and slow, as the night slowly gave way to day. “We are in the in between, and we ask of you, the times in between night and day, the dawn and twilight, to grant us the hope to overcome all that we need, we ask of you to unlock our potential, show us the path to change as we stand on the cusp of childhood and adulthood, to shield us from malice.” No one else said a word, letting Penny take the stage. “We of course do not ask without giving in return.”

(An eye for an eye, as long as they obeyed the letter of the law, the spirit could be warped however they liked)

She brought out her wand, and gestured for the others to do the same. She looked them all in the eye, impressed by the determination she saw there. They’d all surely grow up to do amazing things,  _ wonderful _ things. 

She banked on that hope to see them through.

She lit the tip of her wand with a  _ lumos _ , and everyone followed suit. Holding her wand to the sky, she smiled thinly. “The dreams of tomorrow, we sacrifice today, do you find this equal?” The world itself seemed to still for but a moment. Penny closed her eyes, and hoped against hope that this was enough, that she had honed her skills enough to dance around the entrapment of the ritual. 

Dreams of tomorrow. Sufficiently inexact and vague enough for any mortal being, but the literal concept of  _ Dawn _ , of  _ Potential _ and  _ Hope _ and  _ Transition _ might not see it the same way.

The stars in the sky started to wink out, the wind picked up.

Penelope smelled roses on the air, and she heard something twist and  _ pop _ beside her ear.

(For a brief second, she saw them all again, grown up, in their 20s or 30s even, and they were cloaked and dyed in the colors of the twilight and dawn)

Then everything fell silent again. No one said a word, but everyone’s eye were on her. It was time to put an end to the ritual. She snuffed out the lumos, and everyone followed suit. 

They stared at each other, pale faces now barely visible in the dim (but slowly growing brighter) light. 

“We need to get going.” She said. “We’ll get in trouble if anyone sees us up here.”

“Before we do,” Gemma said, stuffing her wand back into her holster. “We’re all agreed to not tell  _ anyone  _ else about this right?” Everyone chorused a demure “yes”, or some variation of. 

Really, she couldn’t ask for better friends.

* * *

**III: Vanity, a Vice and Virtue**

* * *

She would readily admit to being somewhat vain, after all, everyone was to some extent. Everyone liked to think that they looked good, and it _really,_ **really** wasn’t a sin to think so.

Penny was just a  _ tad _ bit vainer than most other people was all. She liked to spend at least 20 minutes in front of a mirror making sure that every little thing about her appearance was perfect. She liked teasing her hair and putting on makeup. 

Oliver and Gabe liked to tease her about it, calling her a peacock in vein of the “Penny Bird” nickname Oliver had given her, which she often dealt with by landing a light jinx on one or the both of them. 

(There had been one memorable occasion when Percy had joined in on the fun, charming Penny’s hair to a plain brown and everyone else’s (including his) rainbow)

But yes, one could charitably call Penelope Clearwater vain, and she’d accept the idea with a smile. Which, incidentally, meant that she was the person everyone in Ravenclaw went to when they wanted fashion advice. Sure, Penny may not have the bottomless wealth of the older pureblood families, but she had a good eye for the latest trends, and she always had a good supply of beauty products in her trunk that she would let anyone use as long as they gave her some Sickles for it.

(“At this rate you’re going to bankrupt all the 7th year girls Clearwater.” Gemma said as Penny stowed away a bag filled to the brim with sickles (an achievement since it was one of those space-expanding bags too) in the pocket of her robes.

“You’re just mad that you didn’t think of it first Gemma.” Penny smiled brightly at her Slytherin friend. The Slytherin just rolled her eyes in response.)

Overtime the stash she had squirreled away became her Hogsmeade money, used up on food, books, clothes, and other miscellaneous items. 

Penny placed the heavy bag on the table, where it made a  _ clunk _ sound and turned over on its side, only the enchantment placed on it preventing the money from spilling out.

“I hate you Penny, I really do.” Oliver pouted. “It’s not fair that you have so much to spend! And you’re not even going to spend it on something important, like Quidditch!”

“Not everything is about Quidditch Oliver!” Audrey said, exasperated. 

“I don’t want to hear it, traitor!”

“ _ How _ am I traitor, pray tell? Because I supported Gryffindor at the last game, sorry about that Gemma.” The Slytherin shrugged her shoulders. 

“While I  _ am _ still a little mad at Oliver over that—” She shot a glare at him over her book— “I can’t fault you, you lost the bet after all.” Audrey nodded emphatically, then turned to look at Oliver. 

“See! So how am I traitor?”

“My own twin—” Oliver’s voice was drowned out by the drone of “Not your twin” everyone had uttered, upon hearing the ubiquitous phrase that Oliver often used as he often liked to boast that he and Audrey were actually secretly twins, given that they shared a birthday and their last names were almost the same, Audrey’s being Wood _s_ instead of Wood— “thinks that there can be anything more important than Quidditch? A traitor methinks.”

“Just say that you’re still mad about Slytherin winning Ollie, it’s perfectly fine.” Percy said, patting Oliver on the back. Oliver groaned and lay his head on the table, alternating between sending wistful looks at the full bag Penny had ownership of, and throwing glares at Gemma. 

“Wood’s moping aside, what  _ are _ you going to spend all that on Penny Bird?” Gabe asked. 

“Oh, sweets, maybe on a few magazines or journals.”

“Should’ve guess, of course you’re spending it on prettying yourself up some more, as though you aren’t already the prettiest in Hogwarts.”

“People like to look good  _ Truman _ , not that you would know, you like spending all your time getting down in the dirt Mr. “Has All Os in Herbology”, hmm?”

“Well, in any case, I think that calls for a girls' day out, wouldn’t you agree Gemma?” Audrey asked. “I wanted to learn some tips from Penny!” She tugged at her hair, a few of the russet strands coming off in the yank. 

“Sounds good to me.” Penelope smile. “What about you Gemma?” The Slytherin looked around the room, seemingly not wanting to make eye contact. 

“I wouldn’t mind doing something like that...” She mumbled. 

“Great!” Audrey grinned, latching onto the other girl’s arm and pulling her away. “Alright boys, we’ll see you later~!” Penny waited for the Hufflepuff and Slytherin to leave before reaching into her bag and dropping a fistful of coins onto the table. 

“Think of it as a donation.” She grinned, leaving the room.

(She’d be able to make that back in a few days, either way, but it felt good to see Oliver smile.)

* * *

**IV: Boundary of Worlds**

* * *

Penelope would rather never find herself back in the Fae Realm, after all, her life is  _ here _ , in the mortal plane with her parents and friends (granted, neither group  _ knew _ that she was a Changeling, but that was neither here nor there).

But here she is, cutting through the misty veil that keeps the worlds separate, if only because she can’t put this off forever. 

The realm is bright when she enters— the fae love light after all— and Penny has to squint a little before her vision adjusted. Unlike most fae, she has no wings or special eyelids, those physical structures having long since degenerated, reabsorbed into her body due to having been starved of external fae magic. With no wings, or the protection from the omnipresent light, she sticks to the worn and overgrown paths.

The ground is littered with diamonds and pearls and gold and silver. She could be rich if she just scooped up a handful and brought it back home with her, but that would be asking for trouble. True Fae, (not Changelings like her) were capricious beings, and they didn’t suffer mortals who didn’t follow their rules. Penny can’t stop for anything anyways, since the more time she spends in here then the further away from her own time she’ll get. If the times diverged by too much, she would go back either far too soon, or far too late.

(She pushes the nightmare of stepping back through and realizing that all her friends have grown up without her to the back of her mind. Thoughts like that aren’t helpful.)

Worse still than the divergent times is getting acclimated to the land of the fae, and refusing to go back home. The very idea chills her worse than any touch of cold iron, in fact, it makes her want to book it to her destination, or whip out her wand and try a spell or two to get her there faster, and it is with  _ significant _ strength that she steadies herself and keeps walking.

The fae are jealous things,  _ vain _ things, and wickedly smart to boot (she would know). If they saw her using wixen magic in here, they’d trap her (for all she knows she is good at manipulation by way of natural talent, she knows that the fae who were never Changelings are far better at it than her) and force her into some twisted contract. All by her own hand of course, since the fae can’t  _ actually _ force mortals into such things. 

At least, not directly, but that’s what magic and manipulation is for, no? 

Penelope keeps walking, keeps the thoughts of her friends and family in the forefront of her mind to safeguard against temptation. As she walks, the light waxes and wanes, as though day and night only had the barest differences. 

Penny walks until she finds the spot where there is no light at all, the spot with a single, almost dead tree grows out of craggy stone, in a way that would be frankly impossible in the mortal plane. 

She touches her hand to the trunk, and she can feel the magic that flows through it, through its roots, through its branches and leaves. It is the safeguard and the vanguard, the door to the heart of the realm. 

It is this tree that she plans to desecrate with her own two hands. Kneeling, she digs a hole with her bare hands. The rocks and precious metals and gems scrape her hands and digging past the roots is harder than it looks. Still, she succeeds, the twin moons high and cold in the sky. Distantly, she feels eyes on her, but she doesn’t stop, the ritual must continue. Penny unwraps the bundle of red cloth held securely in her hands. Iron needles with gold tipped eyes stained and covered in rowan wood ash, tied together with a red ribbon alongside a lock of her hair hastily chopped off with a whispered  _ diffindo _ beforehand, primrose, and St. John’s Wort all lie innocently in it as it lays on the ground.

The book she had looked up in the library had recommended crushed fairy wings too, as supposedly the presence of the wings were to serve as a signal that the person performing the ritual was stronger than the fae, but Penny knows better than most that introducing something of the fae in a ritual only called them to you. It would have to be all from the mortal of the divide or it would be useless.

Penny carefully lifts the items off the cloth, then places it in the hole, ashy side facing down. The needles are arranged haphazardly on the ground beside her, but there are 9 of them, and that’s all that really matters right now. Penelope takes hold of the ribbon first, placing it on the cloth, then picks up the needles gingerly by their golden eyes, one by one piercing through the cloth and ribbon and into the black dirt with their sharp tips like a miniature fence. 

Her hair is similarly thrown into the hole, and her fist curls around the stalks of primrose and St. John’s Wort she had snatched from Hagrid’s garden before coming to the boundary. She burns the herbs with a lighter she had nicked from one of the older students, and she stands up from her work, hefting the handfuls of dirt over her work. Her blood gets on the dirt, but that’s okay, because she’s not fae, not really, not anymore, never was once she had been exchanged for a human baby. 

When the hole is packed, she spits, and turns on her right heel and doesn’t look back as she runs back to Hogwarts. The last thing she does is poke a small hole in the pouch she had been carrying at her waist, scattering salt in a haphazard trail behind her. The protective bind should hold for her last few years at Hogwarts, but she isn’t about to test it this night.

She stumbles back over the misty border, and barely pauses to suck in a deep breath of air before she runs again, away from the Fae Realm, away from the place she should have called home (did call home in another life perhaps), and she runs towards Hogwarts.

She trips over the roots of an old and gnarled rowan, and cuts her hands on the rough ground. The red liquid quickly disappears from her sight, like the Earth was taking it as a sacrifice. Sparing no mind to it, because one only dwelled on such things when one wanted to understand such esoteric phenomena, and Penelope  _ did not  _ want to understand.

Intentional ignorance was always a good tool in any fae’s arsenal after all.

* * *

**V:** **De bo nne foi, the will to power **

* * *

A Prefect was meant to be better than the other students. That was the long and short of it. Even being  _ considered _ for the position was like the teachers taking out a bit of chalk and marking a line between you and your peers.

That sort of division, that marked  _ otherness _ was often enough for people to turn down the offer, sending the professors scrambling to find someone to accept. Of course, their year being what it was (too many kids lost in the war, the smallest class Hogwarts had had in centuries), opportunities like  _ choice _ didn’t exactly exist for the teens who got handed the position.

Of course, even if they had gotten the choice to decline, most of them wouldn’t. They had learned their lessons, internalized them even. Power was life, and they saw the consequences of not having said power from behind fathers’ legs and mothers’ skirts. The children who survived the war clutched onto their new positions like a lifeline, and Penny was right there with them.

It didn’t matter that the Fae hadn’t been targets of Voldemort, what with their realm being far removed from the mortal one, all that mattered was that Penny was an  _ other _ too, a baby abandoned in place of another, a child who remembered everything she had lost and what she didn’t remember she discovered, just like all the children who grew up mouthing the Unforgivables in their sleep or those who grew up in hideaways or empty mansions. 

It helped that being appointed to the position appealed to her senses of vanity and pride, just a  _ little bit. _

Penelope walked onto the train that first day with black hair neat and glossy, shining just like the shiny badge pinned to her robes. She knew that amongst the 6th and 7th Years, there were people who had made bets on the professors’ firsts choices, and bets on whether those first choices would take up the mantle. She knew the answer of course, 100% of those first choices had accepted, knowing that they could do no less.

(They should’ve all made Slytherin, Penny muses to herself once she finds the Prefects’ Carriage and sits down. They’re all too ambitious by half)

She sees Gemma and Gabriel, and smiles. They greet her with a “Clearwater” and a “How’s your summer” respectively. 

“It’s been fine, do either of you know who the other Prefects are?” She asked.

“Well, Sophie’s— Cooke, not Price— my partner. Shame about Audrey, but given that she’s absolutely nutty about Quidditch, I doubt she’ll mind. That, and with her out looking for apprenticeships this year, well, I’d hate to be a Prefect under those circumstances too.” Gabe started. “You’re half of Ravenclaw of course, same with Gemma, but for the snakes. There’s no doubt that Weasley will get Gryffindor, though who he’s got as a partner is beyond me.”

“I think my partner is Mayer, I thought I saw him with a badge at any rate, you know him Gemma.” Penny said as she started in on her descriptions of the tall brunet. “The tall brunet— Taller than Oliver and Percy— a bit on the sarcastic side, got himself absolutely piss drunk back in 4th year when he snuck a couple glasses of firewhiskey after Ravenclaw won in the game against Hufflepuff—”

“I still say that Peters cheated, but you Claws—” Gabriel attempted to interject, but Penny continued. 

“I think he also takes Ancient Runes with you, right Gemma?” the Slytherin girl nodded. 

“He’s decent at it, but he doesn’t really have any heart for it, I assume it’s more of a family trade than anything he really  _ wants _ to do.”

“Well what can you do? The family trade makes money at least.” Gabe said. “How about you Farley, who’s your partner?”

“Aguirre, his family’s from the Continent a ways back.”

“They came over during the War?” Gabe asked, horror painting his tone. Gemma shook her head.

“No, but it was a close thing, only 2 generations before. His family was divided on whether to support You-Know-Who too.”

“A Grey? You got partnered with a Grey? Oh,  _ Gemma. _ ” Penny sighed, grasping the other Prefect’s hand. “You know what you have to do now, right?” Gemma nodded solemnly, and Gabe started to look concerned.

“Wait, what? What am I missing here? Sure, it sucks that she has to patrol with a bloody fence sitter—”

“—I can hear you all from a good few meters from the carriage.” A voice interrupted. “And that’s enough out of the both of you, stop leading Truman on.” Penny smiled up at Percy, whose face was set in a severe expression she knew he was faking (and not just because of her heritage either, the teen usually wore his heart on his sleeve like the Gryffindor he was). 

“Weasley.” Gemma said in greeting. “Just so you know, I’m not placing myself in your patrol schedules.”

“At least you’re telling me upfront.” Percy sighed as he sat down, taking the window seat on her side. “You would think that Elsie would at  _ least _ make the effort to lie a little better, it’s like she thinks I’ve been struck dumb.”

“Elsie?” Gabe asked. 

“The blonde in our Astronomy class—Hodges’ half-sister—” He added for her and Gemma’s benefit, “She’s sweet on you Truman.” Percy said, a small smirk playing on his face as Gabriel turned red. 

“ _ Whitfield _ ?” Gabe asked in horror. “ _ Nooooooo! _ You all  _ have _ to help me stay away from her, I can’t survive 3 damn years with that crazy witch!”

“You think she’ll last for the whole three?” Gemma asked, and then the two of them were drawn into their own little conversation. Seeing as they clearly weren’t paying attention to them, Penny realized that Percy was looking at her.

“I got your letter.”

“And?” She asked, cocking her head.

“You’ll get my response in a few days. I just… Need a few days to think on it, I haven’t had any time this summer.” She smiled and patted him on the back. She knew that Percy’s summers held very little differences to his school days, as the twins often made enough work for him to clean up/deal with as to negate any sort of stress relief that the summer months would grant him. She made a note to get Oliver and Gabe to drag Percy out for some “guy time.”

“Well, in that case, I’ll be looking forward to it.” He smiled softly at her, and Penny grinned back.

“You’re looking very nice today, if I may pay you a compliment Ms. Clearwater.” She could tease him a little, but she didn’t feel like it.

“Thank you Mr. Weasley, I put my all into my appearance today, since I wanted to make a good impression on my new colleagues.” Not that it was much work, her fae heritage granted her a fairly “beautiful” appearance without much effort on her part due to the natural aspects of the fae’s proficiency with glamour and beauty magics.

“Speaking of our new colleagues, I do have to wonder why you accepted Penny.” Percy said, scooting over as the door opened, admitting Sophie who promptly let out a squeal and had given everyone a hug (a sweet girl, Cooke was). “You like staying out of the spotlight. Well, unless it’s about Magical Creatures.”

“I… I suppose it’s time for me to get out of my shell, and it will look good to any Masters I want to enter an apprenticeship with.” And it meshed well with her chosen Court. Prefects were always focused on the greater good of the student body. Yes, they doled out punishments and took points, but that was because they were focused on bettering student behavior. 

Penny figured that the balancing act of nurturing this better behavior of the students (who would grow to become the backbone of society) would go well with her own ideals, and the ideals of other Fae Changelings like her. 

The Dawn Court, a Court of transition, the creators of the future, the ones who  _ hoped _ . 

As the train came to a stop, and they all filed out and into a carriage, Penny watched her friends jostle and tease and snark at each other. Crammed as they were, what with their original 4 and having picked up Oliver and Audrey along the way to complete their sextet, no one looked angry. If anything, all Penny could sense was the carefree determination to forge forwards despite everything, to treasure everything they had been handed with an iron grip.

“Because I needed to find hope.” She said. Everyone looked at her strangely, the conversations having paused. “Er, sorry. I was thinking about something Percy asked me on the train, and it just came to me now.”

“Did you have your head stuck in the clouds again Penny Bird?” Oliver joked.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to talk Oliver.” Penelope shot back, and their group burst into laughter once more.

* * *

**VI: Say no Evil, See no Evil, Do no Evil…**

* * *

Being born Fae, Penny had some certain innate protections from other types of magic. All beings did to some sort of degree. If it wasn’t considered  _ of your kind _ , then your magic innately resisted it. Granted it wasn’t anything extremely noticeable, just barely enough to keep her safe from low powered jinxes and hexes, but it was still there.

However, innate resistance wouldn’t be enough to save her from a basilisk’s gaze. 

But it  _ would _ be just enough for her to be aware of all the things happening around her should she merely be petrified by the gaze and not killed by it.

And so Penelope Clearwater had been petrified in her 6th Year, and had remained aware of every single little thing. 

Which also meant hearing her boyfriend come and go at odd hours, sitting by her bedside, not saying a word, but nearly crying his eyes out over the durations of his stays.

The awareness meant having to listen to Oliver ramble on and on and on for hours about nothing and everything, as the other 16-year-old desperately tried to not cry over her, confiding that there had to be someone who the others could rely on to stand strong.

It meant hearing Audrey and Gemma sneak visits in between classes where they left her little notes and trinkets from Hogsmeade and all kinds of junk that they knew she’d proclaim to hate but secretly loved.

Awareness was listening when Gabriel walked in, stopped, took in a deep, shuddering breath, and placed a giant stuffed toy on her bed because “it’s from that TV show you were talking about, I saw it this summer in London, and I knew I had to get it for your birth—” and pausing before he could start crying

Penny heard and saw and  _ knew _ every little thing that went on around her. From how the development of the mandrakes that were needed was going, to the talk of closing the school. She knew when little Ginny Weasley had been taken because that was the night Percy had shown up and had grasped her hand like it was the only thing that mattered, and Oliver had taken his place at the foot of the bed, voice choked and tired.

“Damn it.” He had cursed. “ _ Goddamn it. _ She’s only a fucking  _ firstie _ .  _ Why _ ?” 

She hadn’t needed any other words for her to realize that something had happened to Ginny Weasley. She hadn’t needed any words to realize that  _ if only _ she had been able to write the answer in full then Percy’s sister wouldn’t be in danger.

She refused to think that Ginny Weasley was dead. She simply refused to. 

Each and every time a friend walked into the Hospital Wing, Penny had wanted nothing more than to embrace them and wipe away their tears. She had wanted nothing more than to solve their problems, she was a  _ Ravenclaw  _ after all, she was supposed to be the one with all the answers.

Penelope wished that she wasn’t aware. Not for the first time, she cursed the fact that she was a Fae.

If she were human, then she wouldn’t have to endure this. She could labor under the luxury of being dead to the world, of being  _ ignorant _ .

Then maybe, just maybe, she could relieve herself of her aching heart.

* * *

**VII: What Measure is a “Fey”**

* * *

Luna Lovegood can see past the glamours and veneers people put up. 

That trait was likely why she had been bullied. 

Had been. It’s a funny phrase to Penelope.  _ Had been _ implied the existence, at some point in time, of  _ is _ . 

Luna Lovegood _is_ sweet, a little awkward, kind, and somewhat scatterbrained and clumsy. She _is_ platinum blonde and blue-eyed, and able to see past the “fake” to see the “true.” Luna _has_ a slightly-more-absent-than-is-healthy father and a dead mother and turns to her imagination for comfort. She _is_ a decidedly more different from average Ravenclaw. 

Luna Lovegood  **_was_ ** , once upon a time, bullied for all of these things and more. 

Penelope Clearwater had hidden from the world, out of necessity, yes, but she had hidden all the same. Hid everything that made her stand out, stowed them away in dark crooks and crannies of memory that even her friends only ever occasionally get a glimpse of.

She won’t see Luna do the same. 

So Penny whispers spells to find all Luna’s lost things, taps into all the hidden heritage that she’s buried over the years to find magic that will protect the awkward young eagle. Penny spends hours in the library, which isn’t new, but the material she’s looking for is. 

Being fae, it is not in her nature to do something for nothing, there must be some give and take. So she gives Luna these unasked for boons and takes copies of  _ The Quibbler _ without the blonde’s permission.

(She makes sure to read it in full view of Luna and the rest of her house at the table at breakfast)

Penny raises the issue with Professor Flitwick, knowing that goblins (even-half goblins) are a shade more decisive than humans and hopefully that will make all the difference. Normally she would ask Percy to be a bit more mindful of the girl when he sees her, but his plate is already filled with all sorts of things, and she feels guilty even  _ thinking _ about adding more.

(He finds out anyways, and tells her that she was silly to think that, and that he  _ promises _ to look out for her for the rest of the year, and Penny feels even  _ guiltier _ at wrapping him into  _ another _ unintended contract, but that’s her nature and she can’t deny it)

Penny does all this for Luna, because perhaps the girl isn’t fae by blood, but she is certainly  _ fey _ by human standards, and the fae looked out for their own, politics and semantics be damned. 

But Penelope forgets sometimes, that Luna can see through all the shadows and puppetry to find the one working behind the scenes. 

“Thank you Ms. Fairy.” She says in passing as she passes Penelope by in the library. The comment warms her heart.

It reminds her that there was no need to be ashamed of what she was.

* * *

**+1: A Contract without Signature**

* * *

“I’m...” She wrung her hands, bit her lip, focused her eyes squarely on her group of friends as she warred with herself internally.  _ Did _ she want to tell them? They were Wix and Penny was Fae, they were practically obligated to turn her into the Ministry, and Merlin only  _ knew _ how much Percy and Audrey and Gemma all wanted a career there, would they really sacrifice her for a leg up? 

No. Or at least, that was what she had decided to believe. They were all friends, this little ragtag group of interhouse solidarity, they wouldn’t do something so callous. Or maybe they would, but Penny decided to trust that they wouldn’t.

“I’m Fae.” She breathed out, happy to get it off her chest and to end the not-quite-a-lie. The chatter that had only barely been present now turned to complete silence. 

Maybe… Maybe she had been a fool. She met everyone’s eyes in turn, looking for a hint that she should start running, when Oliver snorted. 

“Okay? Was that it?” He asked, his grin so wide it scrunched his nose a little. “I thought you were going to say something like  _ I’m Professor Snape’s long lost daughter! _ ” His deep voice pitched into a falsetto at the end as he attempted an imitation of her. The group burst into snickers, though Percy spared a second to whack Oliver with a thick book. As the Quidditch player whinged about the hard knock, Penny continued to stare.

“You’re… You’re not angry? Or scared? Or going to turn me in?”

“Penny, we have known you for 7 years.” Gemma said bluntly. “If you were an active threat to the wizarding world, I’m sure we would have known about it by now.”

“Besides, it’d be hard to  _ not _ know when we all started to see this, well,  _ aura _ around you Penny Bird.” Audrey said, waving her hands around her body to illustrate her point. 

“Aura?” Penny asked, at a loss for Audery’s description, and find herself even  _ more _ confused when everyone else nodded along.

“We know it’s not a traditional fae power,” Percy spoke up, “But it’s there nonetheless.” He frowned slightly, though it was his “This-doesn’t-make-any-sense” frown and not a genuinely angry one. “We all seem to perceive it slightly differently, though there is one shared similarity between all of us. We all perceive a slight— I suppose  _ haze _ is the best way to describe it— around you, in the colors of what  _ may _ be a sunrise.”

“ _ May _ ?”

“We’re still trying to figure out if it’s a sunset or a sunrise.” Gabe quipped from where he was hanging upside down from a branch in the oak tree everyone was crowded around. “Personally, I have 2 galleons on sunset myself.”

“Wait, you can see my Mantle?” Penny asked, the information finally dawning on her. “Then, why hasn’t anyone else—?”

“As far as we can tell, we’re the only ones who  _ can _ .” Oliver smiled. Penny thought for a moment as to why that might be, and then she groaned. 

“The  _ ritual _ .” 

“Woods, you owe me 5 galleons.” Gemma said. “Clearwater figured it out,  _ as I told you _ she would.” Audrey groaned, but Penny could hear the clinking of money being exchanged, so she clearly had paid up. 

“You  _ bet _ on whether or not I would realize how you all were able to see my Mantle?”

“Yep!” Audrey said with a smile. “Or rather, we bet on  _ when _ you’d figure it out! We knew you’d get it eventually.”

“You lot are hopeless.” She groaned, taking a seat beside Percy. 

“As you keep telling us.” Gabe laughed as he climbed down from his perch. “Anyways, I’m starved, who wants to join me on a kitchen raid? We can share when I get back!”

“I’ll go!” Oliver said, scrambling to his feet. Gemma was soon behind them. 

“You coming too Farley?” Gabe asked, dusting off his robes. 

“Someone needs to keep you both from getting in trouble, and it shouldn’t fall to our Head Boy and Girl.”

“I’m a Prefect!” Gabriel protested, even as it fell on deaf ears. Oliver was clearly enjoying himself, heckling Truman. 

“I’ll come with, the House Elves love me.” Audrey proclaimed, gracefully rising from her seat on the grass. Penny watched as the quartet walked off, and then she turned away from her boyfriend. 

_ Maybe _ boyfriend, that was if Percy didn’t immediately break it off.

“I hope you’re not thinking that I would stop being your boyfriend just because you’re a Changeling Penny.” She blushed a dark red, and hid her face. She couldn’t answer him anyways, what with the whole “always tell the truth” thing hanging over her head. “Penny...” 

Percy’s voice made her look up. “I’m not breaking up with you.”

“You don’t mean that.” Penny said quietly. The redhead sighed.

“Penelope Clearwater, as Farley said before, we have known you for seven long years, I would hope that we would be able to tell if we wanted to be friends, or as the case may be, in a relationship, regardless of whatever secrets you might have been hiding. It’s not as if we bared all our truths to you either.”

“But this is more than just a simple secret.” Penny protested. 

“Our group has always done very well in keeping secrets.” He replied flippantly.

“You’re so stubborn.”

“I  _ am _ a Gryffindor, I’ll have you know.” She snorted, and he replied with a huff, then they burst into laughter. “Come on Penny, we have to go make sure that they didn’t get themselves into trouble.” He extended a hand to her once he got up, which she took. 

“But of course.” And she was a Ravenclaw, Audrey and Gabriel were Hufflepuffs, Oliver was a Gryffindor, and Gemma was a Slytherin. 

But in that moment, none of that mattered, they weren't "wix and fae", they weren't "Gryffindors, Slytherins, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws", they weren't "the kids of the war", they weren't any of those things. 

All that mattered, were that they were all precious friends.

(Penny figured that she could take **that** as her one truth, if nothing else.)

**Author's Note:**

> You can take this squad out of my cold dead hands, I refuse to believe that the kids who came out of the First Wizarding War in that awkward position of having been too young to go to Hogwarts for protection as well as too old for forget the events they witnessed while being outside of that protection wouldn’t cling together for support.


End file.
